


Bad Ideas

by theroomstops



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 08:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroomstops/pseuds/theroomstops
Summary: “You don’t...” He begun as the kettle wheezed. Steam piping from its spout before it went quiet behind him. David's eyes shifted from Julia to the kettle and then back at her.“Don’t what, Sergeant?”Have sex? Fuck? Get laid?Shit, he actually wanted to know the intimate workings of Julia Montague now, and more so he couldn't stop thinking about it.A continuation of the fish and chips dinner in 1.02.  What if something had happened between David and Julia before the aftermath of Thornton Circus?





	Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> This probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, as it does somewhat re-write a special part of the plot, but I hope you'll still enjoy it for what it is. It somewhat shifts POVs throughout, which I hope won't be too confusing.

_“This is a very bad idea.” Julia murmured against his lips. David’s hand swiped across her ribs as he pushed the gray silk shirt up to get it off. Hands pawing at her back beneath the flimsy material, pushing and pulling as she stumbled backwards._

_“Worst idea I’ve ever had.” His eyes met hers, a glint of mischief as he pushed her against the wall separating her living space from her den. _

_“I don't even like you.”_

_“Feeling's mutual.” David held her gaze and demonstratively pulled down her zipper, as she leaned against the wall, panting, trying to catch her breath again. Julia gasped, her hand wandering down, finding specific evidence to the contrary._

_“Liar.” He gasped as she rubbed her hand against him and she grinned against his mouth as his tongue probed hers once more. He stilled for a moment before taking her hands in his and holding them above her head as his lips lingered over hers. Julia felt breathless. Momentarily frozen in time as she tried to catch up with her body as it reacted to him. His smell, his touch, the way his lips nipped at hers forcefully._

_“Should probably stop.” He said quietly, their breaths mingling as he hovered, eyes piercing into hers as she found her voice again with confidence._

_“Well, you started it.”_

_Technically, that was true. He had been the first to make a move._

______________________________

Meeting Julia’s eyes empathically as she prepared to sit through a dinner with Rob seemed innocent enough. David still didn’t like her, he was just being a good PPO. Just doing his job. His duty. Serving her well and treating her with kindness on top of it. Above and beyond, some might say. Keeping his eyes mostly trained firmly on her while Kim’s eyes roamed the restaurant over and over just as training said they should... He was just practical, considering where they were. Such a public place, full of privileged rich people that wouldn’t think twice of approaching his principal without his permission. Those kinds of people, Julia’s kind of people to be frank, just took what was theirs, after all. With little regard for others. At least, that was David’s experience. But still he kept his eyes fixated on her as she conversed quietly with her hapless aide. Top of a growing list of people David Budd couldn’t stand: Rob MacDonald. Julia's special advisor with an annoying tendency to cling and to make highly inappropriate advances. But David's dislike had nothing to do with Rob's unmissable attraction to that infuriating brunette. Rob just had one of those faces. His puppy dog eyes at Julia was absolutely not the reason David’s hand clenched whenever he saw aide. Nope, it definitely was his face. 

David had watched as Julia’s nose crinkled and her eye twitched slightly as Rob spoke. He kept close watch as her mouth pursed, and she seemed to think deeply about something before meeting his gaze briefly, nodding quickly and getting up off her chair as she looked at him. David felt an odd sense of compassion for her as he followed Julia out, walking behind her as her hair bounced off her neck and she sighed. He was learning quickly that all of Julia’s sighs had different meanings. And she had sounded... well, his best guess would have been tired. Not in the sense that she was ready for the day to be over, more so that she had done this before. All too many times. Rob MacDonald’s infatuation with Julia Montague was no secret to anyone, and he thought that deep down even she had to know about it. So he imagined she had sat through several dinners trying to avoid giving Rob any hope that their time together could be construed as anything resembling a date. He almost felt bad for her. From David’s time with Julia so far, she didn’t seem to have much privacy at all. He wondered how she coped. If she ever had company. If she even had real friends. If she ever went on a date. If she ever... Then he shook it off, banishing any thoughts of her in that way as he opened the car door for her and ordered the driver in the direction of her flat.

She had offered Terry dinner too, if he had wanted. Terry had politely declined, an excited smile on his face as he shared with them that his husband was waiting for him at home with their favorite meal for their anniversary. 23 years today. David had felt the pangs of sadness that he hadn’t made it that far, for the way in which his marriage had ended. Happy for Terry, who always did as he was told and never betrayed Julia’s confidence, and sad for himself. His eyes had glanced at Julia's reflection in the front mirror, where he saw a twinge of similar regret in hers. She had caught herself quickly and offered her congratulations, and she was probably a better politician than he had given her credit for because she sounded completely sincere. She apologized for keeping them late and had even passed on her well wishes as she’d stepped out of the car once they had arrived at her flat. The fish and chips had been warm and inviting and it felt as if an iron blanket was pulled off them as they sat opposite each other in the tastefully decorated living room. She’d asked him questions, he had answered. He had pretended to ask questions too, though he felt he already knew all he needed to know about her. It was just... Talking to her was... easy. Surprisingly so, considering the somewhat fraught start to their working relationship. And David wasn’t a fan of talking. Especially not these days. Not when all the secrets he carried inside him were painful and embarrassing, and could probably get him fired. His heart had beat a little faster when she’d looked at him intently and then sighed, offering him a way out. To let him leave. As if she had somehow forced him to be there. He’d hurried to make his way out, fighting against himself as he found he didn’t want to. And then finally, she’d offered a reprieve. 

_A cuppa._

David didn’t give two shits about any cuppa, he just didn’t want to leave yet. And he really hadn’t meant to flirt, but somehow she had made it increasingly harder to breathe in her presence and so he had - by accident. A stupid joke about kettles being dangerous. What a fucking idiot. Conflicting emotions ran through him, as he tried to find his way around in her kitchen. Bubbling underneath as he pressed the button and heard her speak behind him.

“Did you find everything?” She asked, and David jumped and turned, to see her throw the oversized cardigan she'd changed into earlier over the red briefcase on the dining table. She leaned against the open doorway and crossed her arms with a smile. His eyes caressed the newly exposed skin of her arms as he cleared his throat.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“David... when we’re alone,” His breath caught in his throat as she moved from the doorway to the kitchen island and leaned slightly forward, as if she was preparing to share her secrets. “You don’t have to call me Ma’am. Julia is fine.”

“Protocol says I shou-“

“Protocol... wouldn’t allow you to stay behind when I’ve technically relieved you of your duties for the day. Protocols are guidelines, not absolutes. Even you know that, or you certainly wouldn't be here now.”

“Aye, you’re right.” He nodded swiftly, looking down at his shoes before he dared look at her again. “Thank you again. It was nice, having dinner with someone.”

Julia smiled subtly as she took a deep breath and looked at him with renewed curiosity. “How upset do you suppose Rob will be tomorrow considering that I left so abruptly?”

“Do you fancy him?” David asked quickly, before he'd even realized. The look on her face changed, from the soft smile as she'd joined him, to quizzical as she stared at him in surprise now. “Sorry, that was too personal.”

“That’s alright. Off duty, right? Rob is... good at his job. And eager to do well in his career.” Her fingers danced against the stone countertop as she seemed to consider her words. “But I am remiss to find that I should have made it clear earlier I don’t have any interest in him otherwise.”

“None?” David asked curiously.

“Not really my type.”

He couldn't resist. Simply couldn't. His lip twitched as he looked at her and said somewhat coquettishly. “But Roger Penhaligon is?”

“Ouch.” Julia feigned hurt as her lip curled and David's eyes cast down to the floor again. 

“Sorry.” He held onto the counter behind him as he lowered his voice. “If I may ask, Ma’am... I’ve been on your detail for a few weeks... you don’t seem to have much privacy. Time for...”

“Spit it out, Sergeant. We’ve already crossed a few lines tonight, just ask what you clearly wish to ask.”

“Alright. I suppose I was curious as to how you meet men, in your situation?”

“Who says I meet men?” Fuck, he swallowed hard. Had he actually misunderstood? Her face felt impossible to read, a small smile on her lips and her eyes glittering as he continued nervously.

“Women?”

“I can’t tell if that would intrigue you more or not, PS Budd, but actually I meant that I don’t. Meet men. Ever.” He wasn't sure if he was happy with that answer or not, remaining stoic, simply holding her gaze as she continued. “The only men I ever meet are politicians, and as you've been the witness to, I’ve already been down that road and it ended rather...”

“You don’t...” He begun as the kettle wheezed. Steam piping from its spout before it went quiet behind him. David's eyes shifted from Julia to the kettle and then back at her. 

“Don’t what, Sergeant?”

_Have sex? Fuck? Get laid?_ Shit, he actually wanted to know the intimate workings of Julia Montague now, and more so he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Julia felt like an idiot. Cursed herself for not following through on her initial gut instinct and demanding Craddock assign her someone new the moment he'd shown up outside the Home Office. Sending her a fucking ex-solider with model-like good looks and actual principles to make the package more irresistible and infuriating? If she'd just asked for him to be reassigned as she'd told herself, she wouldn’t have spent the last few weeks thinking about his damn face when she should have focused solely on the very real criminal threat in front of her. The universe really had a sense of humor. Providing her a distraction during the most important time of her career thus far. Perfect. 

But she hadn't done that. Instead her heart had beat faster as she pulled on his warm shirt, hugging it around her like a comforting blanket before that fucking Marr interview. And instead of remaining calm and collected, she had been far too emotionally invested. Blowing up at the notion that they'd snatched him away just as she was getting used to him and beginning to find someone to trust in the dark, shark infested waters that surrounded her. And now, unless she was sorely mistaken, and despite as terrible as she considered herself to be at flirting, he was somehow doing just that. They'd opened up, revealed a few secrets, even shared a full meal without either of them leaving offended or annoyed. Actually, not only had he flirted, but she had intentionally offered him the chance to leave at least twice. Dismissing him for the night, making it clear he was under no obligation to stay. Yet she now awaited his return in the living room as she heard him pottering around in the kitchen. Her kitchen. They both knew he should have said his goodbyes. Both very aware that the proper thing to do was to say goodnight and for him to catch a ride back with the backup vehicle. Meet again tomorrow with no conflicting emotions or lines crossed. She took one more sip of wine, emptying the glass as she took a deep breath and made her way to the kitchen.

His lips were surprisingly soft. Everything else about him was so... hard and well defined. And yet his lips... Soft and curious and wet as they explored hers. Her senses kicked into overdrive. His hand rough against her neck as he kissed her, as if he was afraid she’d pull away if he let go. As if she’d want to. Her hands ran across his back, pulling him closer as she backed him against the kitchen counter. His tongue on a discovery trek in her mouth as she tried to ignore the growing little voice that reminded her of the facts. He wasn’t hers to kiss. If anyone found out, if anyone knew about his hand on her neck or on her ass as his tongue fought with hers... she could hear the investigation from there. It wouldn’t matter that he had looked at her like she was water in a desert. It wouldn’t matter that he was the first interesting man to come along in years. Nor would they care that it was the best first kiss she’d ever had. She should know better. Did know better. His hand had made it beneath her top, and his mouth to her jaw, when she finally found the sense to push him away. She leaned against the island counter, breathing heavily as she took him in. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Strong jaw, brilliant blue eyes that stared her down, muscular arms placed behind him on the counter as he caught his breath. She wasn’t sure which part was worse. That she’d allowed it to happen or that she’d found the strength to stop.

David wanted to hate himself. Wanted to hate her. Almost as much as he _wanted_ her. Those carefully styled curls all tousled, that immaculate face suddenly a flushed mess. He gripped the counter to hold himself back. To try to respect her choice. To give himself - and perhaps more importantly his cock - time to remember who she actually was. That he should leave and go back to despising her. He saw her bite her lip. Was she... unsure? Yeah, she definitely looked rattled. That politicians facade had fallen, long gone by now. And he was looking at her. Actually looking at her. Hazel eyes, perfect nose, lips he wanted to kiss again. She smiled just barely when she caught him staring at her lips and he smiled sheepishly as he gripped the counter again. Why was he doing this? Was it some twisted form of mutual destruction? Because Craddock would blow a gasket if she ever found out. He felt sure she was risking even more than he did. Was some part of him trying to ruin her? Why did he even want her? Granted, she’s an attractive woman, he did have eyes. And it had been long and lonely since Vicky had asked him to move out, but if he was suddenly ready to sleep with someone new, why couldn’t he feel some flicker of interest with someone actually appropriate? For someone that he didn’t feel all these things for? One of the many perfectly lovely women he came across in a day. Someone nice and pretty and not so fucking complicated. Someone who didn’t make his heart pound for reasons that weren’t just fun and exciting? Someone who didn’t frustrate and excite him in exact equal measure? He despised everything he knew about her. His google search had only confirmed every dreaded suspicion he had at her involvement with how he got the scars he carried on the back, the same one her hands had mapped their way down just minutes ago. I He should hate her. He had good reason to. So why the fuck could he not stop staring at her? 

He tasted like vinegar. Like sweet and bitter, and everything between. She murmured against his salty lips, spelling out the disaster they were heading for. Part of her expected him to stop. To withdraw his rough, but beautifully sculpted hands and make his way out. Leaving her to finish the job on her own while he probably found some hot young thing to spend the night with. Instead he teased her. Flirted intentionally. His hands explored every inch of her body has he held her against the wall, steady and secure. Her eyes bore into his as she flirted back, pointing out whose fault their current predicament was. He heard her words and merely smiled. If one could call that small crinkle of his mouth a smile. She’d never seen it from him before. Always so stoic, watching her with intent bordering on boredom. Unlike now. Now, his eyes took her in, drinking her like she was expensive champagne as he undressed her and she him.

She cupped him through the cotton boxers, a growl making its way deep in his throat as she played with him. He pulled them down, leaning one handed against the wall as the other tangled in her hair and he looked at her while she stroked him calmly. Felt him come fully alive in her hand, slick and hard as she used her hand on him slowly, until his eyes closed and he pulled it away and filled her generously. Sliding in snugly as he groaned deep in his chest and held her there. She dared to kiss him. Followed the curve of his nose to the strong lines of his jaw as he found his strength, with her leg wrapped tightly around his buttocks and her arms wrapped around that strong, muscular back. 

He felt like destruction too. Felt like his thrusts would threaten to make her fall apart, come undone, as he slid in and out of her roughly. Felt like a thousand suns would burst inside of her as he pushed against her.

_“Fuck.”_

_Him._ His voice trembling in a whisper against her neck as she was halfway to heaven, and he thankfully increased his rhythm. Two helpful swipes against her clit made her lose her breath, come undone in his arms and then his head lolled into the curve of her neck with a groan as she felt the sticky result of their intense coupling drip along her thigh. They stood there for a minute, enmeshed in each other. Holding on as they caught their breaths and prepared to crash back to reality again.

David heard the bathroom faucet run behind him as he found his trousers and shirt on the floor. Waited for the self hatred that he assumed would consume him quickly. Looked at the wall in question and saw only the memories of her face as her eyes had closed in ecstasy. Felt his cock twitch at the memory of her biting her lip as she gave in fully. Allowing him full control of her body in a way it felt like no woman ever had. Trusting him in ways he didn’t even trust himself.

Julia walked out of the bathroom, turning off the light as she faced him again. Slight disappointment and slight relief that he’d begun dressing, his shirt open and hanging off him as he held his clothes in his hands.

“Let's never speak of this.”

“Aye. Let's not.” 

David pulled his trousers back up, looking at her as she covered her face in her hands. Her expression mostly hidden from him, then an almost imperceptible smile as she ran her hands through her hair and took deep breaths. His cock twitched again. A confusing, ravenous roar seemed to grow in his belly as he looked at her, and knew in his gut he couldn’t make himself leave now. His lips crashed upon hers again and she moaned. Low and guttural, as if she’d been waiting for it as much as he had tried to stop himself.

His tongue tangled against hers as his hands pulled on her hair. Exposing her neck to him as he nibbled roughly, leaving temporary red marks as he trailed his way from her collarbone to her jaw. He bit on her ear. There were no whispers of sweet nothings as he had been used to when his marriage was still holding together. Only growls of need, of hunger for her, as he undid her bra clasp and threw the thing on the floor. He buried his face in her bosom. Taking one nipple in his mouth, suckling on it keenly before moving to the other. Feeling them stiffen more in his mouth as he heard her enthusiastic approval. He rose to meet her eyes again, finding them dark and filled with desire as his lips sought hers again and again. She pulled on his neck, and guided him towards the room he knew to be her bedroom when she crashed into another wall. He removed her underwear for the second time that night and lifted her quickly, scooted his hands beneath her ass as he felt those long, glorious legs wrap around him and he could barely distinguish reality from implausible fantasy until the bedroom door slammed shut and he sat down at the edge of her bed. She didn’t move as they sat entangled there at the edge, a brief moment of stillness as they took each other in. And then her nails scraped against his neck, and he stood quickly. Julia landed on her feet and pulled his recently attempted worn trousers back down as he stood in front of her, almost naked. He hadn’t been anywhere near this naked in front of anyone since the explosion. He wasn’t sure if he hated or loved her a little for not even seeming to notice the little bits of scarring that laid outside the white tank top. Either she was too turned on to notice or his scars simply didn’t phase her (that would be a first), because she simply climbed onto the bed without a single comment. Providing him a generous view of ample curves as she crawled onto luxury sheets and turned to lie down. 

He leaned a knee against the bed, pulling on her legs to draw her back, to get her closer as he dove into the wet, warm sanctuary between her legs. He spent a generous minute lapping at her, licking and sucking as he heard her breath quicken immediately and saw her hand grip at her sheets. He stopped just as she moaned. He lifted himself from his place between her thighs. Moving slowly. Enjoying her intense gaze as he moved his body on top of hers, hovering over every inch of her with every inch of him as he watched her. Catching her breath, steeling herself, waiting for him. It was the first time he could remember being wanted in as far back as he cared to remember. To feel a woman’s eyes on him and not feel the instinct to cover himself, or to just get things over with. He felt a little invincible. Powerful. The look on her face as she’d come earlier in the living room and the look on her face now, fueled him as he toyed with her. Took himself in hand and teased the head of his cock against her just barely. She breathed deeply as she waited for him. He watched her face as he slid in and pulled out quickly. More than once, over and over until he could barely control himself as she begged for him. _Please, David._ Maybe this was his revenge. Maybe it was his salvation. Maybe it was a mix of both as he finally pushed all the way in and filled her. Alternating between fast and slow as he thrust against her, moving to a perfect rhythm he seemed to know by instinct. That hard little part of his heart momentarily crumbling to dust as he felt long forgotten senses tingling as they begun to come alive again.

She couldn’t think anymore. Any attempt at rational thought had been left in her kitchen when he’d first kissed her and then come back for more when she’d broken it. She knew better, she did. Knew so much better than to let a hot bodyguard fuck her against the living room wall and then again now. It felt silly to use the phrase “couldn’t stop herself”, but she truly couldn’t. Couldn’t, and more so, didn’t want to. So much too lose and yet not a single part in her body wanted to stop what David was doing to her right now. David, who was so perfectly angled, hitting every sweet spot and who felt the perfect weight on top of her as she craved for him to go on and on and on. David, who seemed to know exactly how she liked to be fucked, even as his hands explored her for the first and second time. David, who for the past few weeks, between stoic, professional gazes, had looked at her with what she could only assume was disdain. Not uncommon. Ex-soldiers usually either kneeled at her feet, or looked at her with that same kind of annoyance... David hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. Not until tonight, when his hard eyes had softened. When his voice he been lighter. When his laugh had felt genuine, and his desire too.

His breath against her neck felt like some form of forgiveness. His hand on her ass like the best kind of sin she'd ever committed. Him buried deep inside as sweat formed on his forehead and everything turned to fuzz around her. One hand locked with hers above her head, the other gripping so hard it turned her skin white as he held her leg around him. Kneading and pulling on her, thrusting against her with insatiable appetite, until they both grunted into the dark room and collapsed against each other. 

Eventually her heart slowed to a normal beat. Her skin slick and turning cold where he wasn't sprawled on top of her. He lay nestled against her chest as he stared into the dark. His fingers sweaty between hers as he let go of her hand and finally moved.

“Absolutely cannot do this again.” She said regretfully as he moved off the bed.

“Aye. Bad idea. Both times.” He threw her underwear on the bed next to her as he came back, holding onto a pile of his clothes. Julia slinked out of bed, uncomfortable and sticky as she pulled the silk panties on and searched for her robe.

“Back-up vehicle still waiting?” Her eyes traveled down the length of his body. So impressive and so perfectly sculpted. She rested her eyes on thick, muscular thighs, enjoying the view of a beautiful man in her bedroom while she could. It seemed impossible to ask him to stay. She couldn't. And she preferred to sleep alone anyway. She always had. The nights Roger had spent away had quickly become her favorite in their marriage.

“Shit. Aye. I have to-” He sounded nervous to his own ears. Scrambling for rational thought as he stepped into his boxers and looked at her. Soaked in every curve, committing them to memory before looking at her face again. He caught a moment of uncertainty before she covered for it. Turning her back to him as she continued her search for her robe and he continued to dress.

“For fuck's sake, we're both adults. Best if we just pretend this...”

“... Never happened?”

“Yes.” She turned to him, holding the robe in front of her as she looked at him, far less confident than the mask from mere seconds ago. “Why don’t I walk you out?”

“I do know where the door is.” He made a terrible attempt at winking, to lighten the obvious tension in the room as he re-zipped his pants and began to button his shirt up. Julia visibly eased, slipping into her robe and tying it closely. He couldn't stop himself looking, his eyes wandering from her cleavage to her exposed legs.

“My PPO is rather a nightmare. He’d never forgive me if I didn’t check every fucking security lock.”

“Aye. That’s all true.” David smirked to himself as Julia walked out in front of him, leading him to the door. 

“So, tomorrow morning then.” Oh God, she dreaded it. Having a taste of freedom and then having to go back to the shackled, dulled existence of the Home Office confines. Back to threats and danger and incapable aides. But she had a meeting at No. 10 at least. Those tended to drag on. Vosler always enjoyed hearing himself speak in the privacy of cabinet meetings. Stealing her time so she spent less time watching a body she now knew so intimately watch her from afar, while her own body could still recall the fresh memory of his hands on her.

“Aye. Have a good evening... Ma’am.”

“Good evening... PS Budd.” David nodded and prepared to leave when she stepped in front of him again. “Wait.” 

His heart pounded. Thoroughly unsure of what he wanted her to say next. “Your, uh... your shirt.” David looked at her, puzzled, as her hands reached for his collar. Loosing it from its crumpled form and stroking it until he looked presentable. Hazel eyes danced over his face, an intense feeling spreading in her chest as her breath hitched. He stared right back, until the small intake of breath shook him from his reverie, making him take a step back as he waited for her to open the door and end whatever the fuck had just happened between them. 

“Remember to lock the door. Wouldn’t want that scary PPO to find out you’ve been not been following the rules.”

“Yeah.” She whispered, her hand lingering on the door handle as she watched him leave, before she closed it behind him and carefully locked the security locks. She leaned against the wooden door. Resting her forehead against the cold, glossy finish. A minute passed until she finally heard the sound of footsteps going down the stairs and she took a deep breath as she headed towards the bathroom. Though who the fuck was she kidding? She could wash the smell of him, all musky and masculine, off, but as the water cascaded down her body, all she could feel was the memory of his hands where the water had replaced them.

A whole minute he’d stood there. Trying to make his body leave, fighting the instinct to knock on her door, and drown himself in smooth alabaster skin and silky thighs again. To tangle his fingers in those luscious locks and pull on it as he licked the sweat off her neck. He finally managed to leave. Walking downstairs as he stared at the door and wondered what she was doing. If she’d left, if she’d promptly gone back to work. Shuffling papers as if nothing had happened. As if she fucked strange men within an inch of their lives every night. If she had gone to bed, if their shenanigans had made her relax the way his body felt worn and gloriously tired for once. If she’d showered or taken a bath. He thought about her. Let her invade his thoughts as he heard the guys in the back up vehicle discuss which pub to go to for beer. He could still smell her on his skin. That intoxicating mix of lavender and sweat as he'd kissed every part of her he could reach. And he hated himself a little bit for wanting nothing else right now but to take whatever she had to offer again.


End file.
